Drabbles for Hijack
by thecrazyLaDiDa
Summary: Hiccup's got his head up in the clouds. Jack is a little flawed. It's all about differentiating between fantasy and reality. In which there are beginnings, middles, endings, and a not so unexpected pairing: these are all going to be Hijack drabbles that are of various length.
1. Heart

I had a document just full of Hijack drabbles so I decided to start posting them. They will all be under this story; each chapter a different drabble. And who knows? Maybe I'll continue some into multi chaptered drabbles if you guys ask for it. For this first one, just know that Mim isn't all that good and controls death. He finds sadistic pleasure in killing those who don't deserve it. Jack is one he sends down to kill those he wants to die.

* * *

Heart

Of all the ways Hiccup had imagined his inevitable death, not once did he imagine it would be in the hands of a angel. Because as he glanced upward into the eyes of the creature that was holding him, the only word that came to mind was _angel_. The white spikes of hair that sat atop his head caught the moonlight's beams. His features were undeniably handsome, closing in on beautiful. Clear blue innocent eyes, with dark lashes framing them. His nose was a small thing, with a ski slope bridge. And underneath that, thin lips that at the same time seemed full. By themselves, each feature was ordinary, if not perfectly symmetrical (except for the eyes; hiccup was sure he saw his own conscious shining from deep in those bright blue orbs), but as a package altogether, the result was stunning. _Beautiful._

It was too bad that the beautiful creature in front of him with alabaster skin was holding a rather menacing dagger in his deft hands, poised right above hiccup's heart, ready to plunge down and end the short life Hiccup had lived. It was really too bad. There was nothing Hiccup felt he could say to change the mind of the creature who held his future in his hands; nothing he could do either.

Hiccup opened his mouth, feeling the parched sensation that followed whenever he was nervous, and smiled weakly, accepting his imminent death as the seconds were drawn out.

"Just…do it quickly. Okay? Please…" A fit of coughs racked his body then, heaving him into an almost upright position, but a hand pushed him back to earth. One last hack brought forth a spat of blood, which landed mostly on the ground, but some of it on the angels hand, which froze immediately.

The pale hand slowly let go of Hiccup, letting him slump to the ground, and raised to its owners eyes. The hand stopped inches from the blue eyes, intently trained on the crimson that coated a small amount of his skin, which was drying quickly.

So quick, quick enough Hiccup was sure he made this up, a tongue darted out and tasted the blood. The face of the angel twisted into one of disgust, and Hiccup almost laughed. Who in their right mind tasted blood?

And because he had no trap or filter, he quipped: "Yeah. Blood normally doesn't taste good. Unless you're a vampire."

The blue eyes were trained on him once more, so intent in the gaze that Hiccup was sure the angel could see right through him and into his very soul.

"Blood?" The white haired male questioned, almost in a innocent way; as a child might ask.

Hiccup was surprised the angel spoke, but answered with a level tone, nonetheless.

"Yes, blood. The red stuff that is pumped by my heart. It keeps me alive."

"…Heart?" The angel spoke, and Hiccup was surprised to hear his voice was deep. A man's voice. Much deeper than Hiccup's sarcastic tone.

Hiccup narrowed his eyes. "Yes. My heart."

The hand that was holding the dagger seemed to falter slightly before setting the dagger on the ground soundlessly.

"Heart," the angel repeated, gesturing to himself for some reason. He patted his own chest and stared at Hiccup as though to convey some message.

Hiccup sat up tentatively, not wanting to scare the angel. "Yes. Heart. Right here." He patted his chest where his heart should be and cocked his head.

The angel shook his head at this. His white hair was a blur as Hiccup tried to understand what the beautiful creature was trying to say. He sent Hiccup another look, one that begged of him to understand what he was trying to convey and repeated the word again.

Hiccup paused, thinking it over before coming to a conclusion. He moved forward, slowly, and reached out to place his hand on the angel's chest where his heart should be beating. His hand came in contact with the soft blue material that made up his shirt before pressing softly, waiting to feel the serene pumps of the organ that kept him alive.

A moment passed. Hiccup breathed out.

There was nothing.

There was nothing that pumped underneath the pale skin of the creature; nothing that signified life in the slightest way. His chest could have been an empty cavity; devoid of the organ that signified love and life.

Hiccup instantly snatched his hand away, cradling it to his own chest as he looked at the beautiful male incredulously.

"How could you not have a heart…" he stuttered out, unease shining in his verdant green eyes. How could this guy be alive…this angel- no, _wait_. Did angels have hearts? That would explain the lack of a heartbeat he just discovered.

The creature shook his head and looked down, as though shameful. Crystalline droplets fell from his eyes, barely making a sound as they dripped to ground. "Jack doesn't have a heart."

_Tears_. Hiccup realized as his eyes widened in surprise.

"Jack, was it..?" He asked. Said male looked at Hiccup.

"You don't have a heart, but you can cry…" Hiccup spoke softly, as though unsure of what he was trying to say. "I've never heard of someone without a heart who can cry." _Well, he'd never heard of someone living without a heart, period_. But for all he knew, this guy wasn't living. The more he was learning about the blue eyed male, the more he was beginning to accept that.

"Cry?" the man said in the softest voice Hiccup ever heard.

"Yes. Cry." He reached out and wiped the tears from under Jack's right eye with his thumb, showing him the clear liquid that was running down his finger when he pulled back. "See?"

Jack was starting to scare hiccup, with his incomplete knowledge of anything and his childish way of reacting. This angel was starting to act less like an teenager -or so his body would seem- and more like a curious 5 year old child, intent on learning everything and anything that their mind could absorb.

A battle cry was heard above the two, and Hiccup snapped his head up, remembering that he was smack dab in the _middle of a war. _And he was taking to a angel, at that…

"I-I've got to go!" He gasped and scrambled to get on his feet. The blue eyed male who'd been threatening him not moments before now looked at him with something akin to admiration in his eyes.

Hiccup was about to sprint toward the figure of his own dragon -_Toothless!_- before pausing and turning to the angel still on the ground, tears carving fresh trails down his cheeks. The words got stuck in this throat at the sheer beauty of the sight of the ethereal being before him, and he swallowed self consciously.

"Thank you," he said, not even sure that Jack understood what he was saying. "For not killing me and all that…you know, I'm sure you have a heart somewhere. You have to find it. That's all." And with that, he turned on his heel and ran (or limped; take your pick) to his beloved dragon before taking flight into the sky that held the deadliest battle between man and creature.

Jack's blue eyes followed the figure of the boy he was about to kill as he took flight and went out of sight. _Killed_. Such a strong word. Manny hadn't explained to Jack what happened when a human is killed or dies. Jack just assumed that it was something temporary. Something that could be reverted back to normal; but the brown haired boy just taught him something. Something he had never known and now feels horrible knowing about.

All those people he had killed…all those hearts he punctured to stop their beating…they'd never go back. He ended their life and brought upon them a forever they shouldn't have had until years later. He _killed_ them. He did something absolutely and utterly _horrible_.

Jack felt a pressure on his chest before realizing that it was he himself who was causing it; he was clutching at his chest where his heart should be. His sweater was straining against the pull it wasn't used to. His body shook as he hunched over on his knees, nose almost touching the cold ground.

He didn't have a heart. But then…how was he alive?

He paused.

Was he even _alive_? All these questions tumbled one after another into the thing that was Jack's mind; never stopping, only leaving him in doubt.

"No…" his breath was racked with heaves, almost as if he was mortally wounded and lay dying. But it wasn't that. He just couldn't breathe. He had never needed to, after all, he had no heart. But from the first experimental breath he took, it felt wrong. Like his body was trying to turn itself inside out, choking and drowning him at the same time.

_Oh gods, this was the wrong thing to do. _He clenched his eyes in pain.

"I…need…to-" He was cut off as something blossomed in his chest- something that filled him with the sense that whatever it was, it was growing. A gargled noise escaped his windpipe as he struggled to cease the alien feeling his body was going through. It was him against his body, a fight that neither was winning.

And then, without his consent, his body jolted forward as his lungs constricted before returning back to their previous state, as they had for years and years. A breathe, so small, so insignificant, so mellow, escaped his lips and lit the air with condensation. It disappeared rapidly, leaving Jack to stare at the space that his breath had occupied. He blinked a few times before his body asked- no, _screamed_ at him to take another breathe, and he did, giving into the new need his body required of him.

That green eyed boy had been breathing. When he had laid there in Jack's merit, Jack noticed he was breathing. The chest was rising and falling softly, and by all means, unnoticeably.

_Expand. _

_Contract. _

_Breathe in. _

_Breathe out._

It was a pattern; a musical melody that consisted of the sound of air being taken in before being expelled out. A staccato of air in and out of a windpipe. A crescendo of surprise and wide eyes as Jack stared downwards at the cavity he called a chest.

He coughed, completely unaware of how it happened, as his eyes never left his chest.

An idea crossed his mind that moment, and he brought a hand to hover over where his heart should be. He took a deep breath (it felt odd) and gathered the courage to press the palm of the hand to his chest, and waited.

Like the flutter of a birds wings, it was soft, but _something_ was there. _Something_ was definitely under the skin that covered his chest. _Something_, merely centimeters under his skin, beat softly and calmly. It was in no rush. So slight against his fingertips and through the material of his sweater, he was sure he was hallucinating. But it was there. It was beating.

A heart was beating. Those pumps weren't made up. It was real. He was _breathing_.

His body he was in was miles ahead of his brain, and when it registered that somehow, something changed in him to awake the dormant organ he never thought twice about, he scrambled backwards so suddenly, that he rammed his head into a boulder that effectively stopped him from moving any further.

_Breathe in, breathe out. _

His blue eyes widened as he stared into the distance in shock.

It wasn't even something he had to think about doing- breathing. He used to think, you know, back when he didn't know a thing about life or hearts or whatever, that breathing was a chore. Right before he would plunge down the marble dagger sharpened to cut through diamond into the hearts of humans, he used to think that it was such a shame that they had to breathe. Enough that their lives were hard enough already, why did they have to have breathing in the back of their minds? It sounded like a hard job, remembering to breathe so that their petty lives could continue.

_Breathe in, breathe out. _

And maybe that was why his emotions were dormant when he watched the eyes of the dead, still somewhat full of life, drain slowly, and never thought about the life he just ended. Maybe he somehow convinced himself, throughout all the years of attending to Mim's orders, that he was saving the people he killed. True, he didn't know shit about killing or hearts back then, but he definitely believed that the slight falls and rises of chests were work, and that by stopping them, he was saving the human of years and years of hard labor.

He would sometimes ponder for days about this, when no people were on the agenda to kill or no orders were given, in his room, alone, where Mim couldn't reach him. It was the only time he allowed himself to question the "tasks" he had been ordered to do by Mim, the man on the moon. He always did have a sense from right or wrong. For instance, when walking down a street full of bustling people, he would always make sure the old ladies crossing the busy intersection were safely across before attending to other things. He always found ways to stop the tears of children. He always hated the stress that some people wore on them like a coat, and would instantly look for ways for a smile to paint their face. After all, shouldn't living be fun?

And that…all those acts of kindness wasn't even something he thought about doing. It just flowed out his body, like a natural reaction, to help people. To make their lives even just a little bit more happier, a little less stressful.

And the killing had always been something he disliked doing. The only reason he never questioned it outlooks was because of…well, _Mim_. How could he go against Mim? Mim was the reason he existed. Mim was the reason he _was_. Not alive, but _was_.

He caught himself and hummed, shaking his head in deep thought.

Before he simply _was_…and now, well now he was alive.

_Alivealivealivealivealive_

The word raced through his mind. His heart, dormant after so many years, beat on a new mission.

_Breathingbreathingbreathingbreathing_

He chest, vacant of movement or even true feelings, was beginning to swell with feelings that he hadn't felt before.

The breathes that stole out of his lips were beautiful, and what was even better was the fact that he didn't even have to _try_ to breathe. It was as natural as stopping the tears of the children he loved to watch in his free time from his room on the moon, or pushing someone out of the way of an oncoming car.

Blue eyes sharpened as they gazed upwards toward the heavens, waiting for Mim to make an appearance and show him what to do, how to act, who to kill. It was always Mim. Always Mim telling him yes or no. To do or not to do. To act or not to act. And he hated it. Now, with the heart he had beating in his chest, he knew for sure that he hated it.

But through it all, he was still the harbinger of death, no?

Tears sprung to his eyes once more as he regarded his hands with a gaze that sharpened on the blood he still hadn't wiped off. The blood of that boy, the one who made his heart beat.

How much blood had he spilled before?

Too much, he decided. Way too much blood stained his hands.

That boy had saved him. In a sense, Jack didn't even know what that meant, but his heart was telling him that. How much longer could he have existed without using his heart? How much longer would he have lasted before throwing himself into the fiery pit of hell. And not because it was an order, but because he was going insane.

With a new sense of purpose coursing through his veins, Jack stood up and looked at the sky with a searching gaze. This war was going on for too long. A war that was reaching its peak and would soon die out, but not before the casualty count would reach outstanding numbers on both sides.

And Jack decided it was time to end it.

But what he didn't know was that his own body was going through a metamorphosis; a changing. The magic was waning. The hair that had always been white atop his head was now changing at the roots. White was turning to brown. His eyes, so blue and cold, were warming. Blue was starting to show a hint of warm brown, almost hazel.

But he didn't know this. And as he flew into the air, ready to stop a war, he didn't know that his life would change after that night. Forever.

* * *

_2 years later. _

A bucket of water shouldn't be this heavy, Hiccup decided as he labored down the pathway to his home atop of the hill. His breathes came out in short gasps, and he bit his lip to keep from groaning at the lactic burn his arms were beginning to feel.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair at all. Why did he have to end up the runt of the litter? Having common sense was nice and all, but in all honesty, at the moment he would much rather have muscle than common sense because clearly, the latter wasn't helping him at the moment.

He gave a small gasp as he plopped the bucket of water on the ground near the back door and muttered as he searched his pockets for the key. "Damn you genetics…" he mumbled before locating the key and jammed it into the keyhole, turning it slightly and letting the door swing open before carrying the bucket and himself into the window lit room.

"You would think that after a war, you know, just maybe the gods would bless me with muscle but noooo," he talked to himself as he walked through the house, minding tidbits here and there before finally coming to his couch and throwing his aching self onto it.

He turned his head to say something to Toothless as habit caught up with him before snapping his mouth shut. His brain reminded him of the sacrifice his best friend had made to keep him alive, and he found himself wishing suddenly that he could go back in time to when his life had been normal.

Now he was alone.

Life had been _ever_ so kind to him. After the war and the plentiful number of funeral services he attended for both friends and family alike, Hiccup found himself questioning why he stayed in Berk. There was nothing left for him there, nothing at all. A year after his 16 birthday (and after the war), he packed up a few sparse belongings and headed out without looking back. Too many memories of friends haunted him there; friends that were now dead and would never talk or joke with him again. He had travelled for 8 months, stopping in various villages across the region before spotting an old abandoned cottage on the outskirts of a well kept town far way from home. After a few questions and paying a hefty sum to the mayor of the town (who lowered the price for him), the building was his. Yes, it was in poor shape and yes, it hadn't been touched in years, but Hiccup was well known for putting the broken back together. And just like he pieced his life back together into the intricate pattern is was and always had been, he fixed the house.

He started with the roof; tearing off old shillings and replacing them with his own, which he fashioned out of metal. Next came the inside of the house. Water damage had nearly destroyed everything in it, but after locating a smith-shop that offered him a couch near the fireplace and the materials and the tools to work with, he slowly began working as his own personal interior decorator. North was the good man in charge of the place and even offered Hiccup a job to finance his new house. Hiccup was more than happy to accept, although the one setback was that North reminded him a whole lot of Gobber, who had been one of his most trusted friends and was currently six feet under. He and North often joked that the only reason he kept coming back to the small but well kept shop on the corner street was because of the cookies North was famous for.

The sun was high in the sky, promising plenty more hours of sunlight until the day ended and night came. Today was a holiday at the town for some god or other Hiccup had never heard of and didn't care about. He gave up praying after the war and decided that it was something else that drove him to be where he was right now. Luck? Destiny? Fate? Maybe it was one of those. But destiny had an odd way of screwing with him and fate had been no better.

_It must be luck_, he thought as he threw open the doors of his shed in search of the extra shillings he had fashioned for the roof. No one bothered him about his lack of participation in town-activities, knowing that he had a back story he never really discussed with anyone. He minded his own business and they minded their own.

After banging his shin on an unidentified object ("_Fuck_!") and nearly avoiding death by tripping over an upright hammer ("_Yeah, fate my ass,_"), he located the box of shillings and his make-shift ladder. He took them outside and after setting up the ladder, hooking the hammer into his pants, and stuffing the extra shillings in his pocket, he climbed to the roof and began whistling a folklore tune as he started the job of replacing the shillings that he noticed began leaking water during a downfall of rain.

The day was nice. The sun was shining; not too harshly (although it would do him some good to get darker. He was pretty pale.), and the birds chirped out tunes and melodies from trees near and far. A slightly breeze shifted through the air, tousling his locks of red-brown into his face and he honestly couldn't remember when he'd been any less stressed before in his life. He had nothing to get to, nothing to worry himself with and nothing that required his immediate attention. Life was pretty good, even he had to admit. The loneliness was something he had always been immersed in, so the fact that he only had trees and nature to surround himself with wasn't too bad. In fact, nature calmed him down. The only downside being the winters. Damn, where they cold. It seemed that every winter he had to prepare a mountains load of wood for the fireplace. He burned through ten chords every winter, if that was anything to go by.

_And still no muscle_ he chuckled as he wiped his brow of the sweat from the work. He reached into his pocket for a shilling and came empty handed. A small frown painted his lips. He'd have to make the trip down and get more.

Had he been paying attention, he would have noticed how the breeze picked up, but that was not the case. He moved to make way down the ladder and was was one step down when a particular strong gust of wind tore through the air and with its miraculous power, actually _moved_ the ladder an inch to the left.

Hiccup froze with wide eyes and instantly began mentally calculating whether shifting his body would change the situation for better or worse. Finally deciding that moving downwards wouldn't be too bad-

Another strong wind moved the ladder to the left again; this time, dangerously close to the edge of the roof.

"Are you _kidding_ me?" Hiccup sucked in a breathe as he felt the ladder move, and him with it. "Alright Hic, calm down," he talked to himself in hopes of making his rate heart slow down. His hands shook as he clenched the ladder with white fists.

Green eyes watched as the ladder shifted another inch to the left and this time, with its own force propelling it. No wind was evident any more.

Well shit.

He'd avoided death in his life like a pro. Seriously, he should get a medal (he was partial to green, if you were wondering). The red death, plenty of situations where luck had been his only ally, Dagur, the war, that one angel-

Huh, the angel. He hadn't thought of him in a long time. North had said that he might've been Jack Frost, after he described the shocking white hair and blue eyes, but Hiccup laughed it off before downing another shot.

_Well either way, doesn't change a thing if I'm gonna fall and break my neck and die-_

The wind was whistling, which perfectly explained why when hiccup heard a voice yell out at him, he ignored it, bypassing it for the wind. After all, everyone was centered in town to celebrate the god of luck (the irony nearly killed him), but then he heard it again.

"_Oh my god…ok up there_?"

Hiccup's ears perked and his hope flared up. A voice means a person, and a person could maybe stop the ladder.

"No!" Hiccup yelled back, not even turning his head in fear of moving the ladder even more. "The ladder- it's moving! The wind was too strong and I must've not secured it enough or something, because now the ladder's gonna fall!"

He didn't hear anything for a moment, and suspected that the person had either left or never existed in the first place, when the voice came back again, much to his relief. _So death might not be on the agenda today…_

"Here, I got you." A male, Hiccup deduced, from the deepness of it, spoke. A steadying hand clamped down on the ladders base, balancing the ladder, and Hiccup took no time to instantly begin moving down the ladder.

"You're gonna have to jump!" The person called out, worry evident in his tone (which sounded oddly familiar to Hiccup's adrenaline filled mind).

"But, I can't, I'll break something for sure!" He yelled back, trying to keep his voice from shaking.

"No, you won't. Just jump, I'll catch you," the voice answered.

"You sure?" Hiccup only had seconds before the ladder fell, he could already feel it moving, and before waiting for the answer, he placed his trust completely in the hands of a stranger, and jumped.

In the moment where he fell backwards due to gravity, he suddenly remembered what it was like to fly Toothless. His verdant eyes even closed to prolong the experience. But like all things, it came to an end.

"_Oof_!"Hiccup crashed into a body, sending the two of them to the ground with force, knocking Hiccup's chin into the other's chest in an uncomfortable _cling_ as he knocked his teeth together. He didn't have to guess to know that he had successfully knocked the breath out of the man he had just jumped on top of.

They remained unmoving for a moment after the fall, each catching their breath. If it weren't for the slight rising and fall of the stranger chest, Hiccup would have thought he was dead. In the background, the sound of the ladder falling to the ground awoke Hiccup from his stupor and with aching bones, he picked himself up from stranger and scrambled to his feet with the grace of a baby fawn.

"Thank you so much. Shit. I am so sorry, I really didn't mean for you to get hurt," he managed to get out, reaching out to help the stranger who just saved his life, when his gaze fell on the figure splayed on the ground and really took him in for the first time. Something caught in his chest the moment his green eyes clocked the familiar face and his hand froze, suspended in the air.

If it were possible, his eyes widened even more as unfamiliar hazel brown eyes stared back at him; wide in recognition as rich brown hair fell into them, masking any other expression the man may have had. But besides the brown eyes and hair, the features were the same as Hiccup remembered them.

Ski slope nose…

Thin lips, yet somehow full at the same time…

A symmetrical face with not a freckle or scar adorning it….

This was…

"No way…" Hiccup breathed out, barely glancing at the mans face. Instead, his eyes were drawn to his chest. His heart.

Jack looked up at the green eyes male staring down at him and couldn't help but smile. That face was the same as he remembered it, except now it looked older. More developed. Less childlike. The baby fat, although still there, had angled out into a sharp jaw. The eyes were still a vibrant green, and when they flickered to look at his own, he spoke up.

"Hi. I'm Jack."

Hiccup was sure now; if he wasn't before, now he was positive that this was the angel that had let him live two years ago.

"I'm Hiccup," he supplied after a pause.

"I know." Jack smiled at him, the sun glinting off his white teeth. "I've been looking for you."

It took him a moment to register the words. But when they did…

"I'm sorry?" Hiccup asked, reality crashing back down on him.

Jack got to his feet and brushed himself off, all while looking at Hiccup. "C'mere. I've got something to show you."

"I really don't-"

"Don't worry, I wont hurt you," Jack assured. "Didn't I just save your life? Trust me, I don't want to hurt you."

"You're the angel of death," Hiccup retorted, but found himself stepping toward the beautiful male in front of him.

Jack chuckled with a dark undertone. "Angel, huh? You're generous." He took Hiccup's hand and after a questioning glance to which Hiccup nodded yes to, brought it to his chest.

"Do you feel it?" He asked, watching Hiccup's face intently. "Do you remember?"

_Thump thump thump thump. _

A heart, beating soundly but surely.

Hiccup definitely felt the beats of a heart resounding from Jack's chest.

He tried to snatch his hand back as he did two years ago, but Jack's grip was too strong for him to break out of.

"But…how?" He looked into Jack's eyes, as if the answer could be found there, but all he saw was the other male smiling down at him.

"It was you. All you." Jack replied, finally letting go of Hiccup's hand, but it remained there; maybe due to shock or maybe Hiccup still couldn't believe Jack was before him for the second time in his life.

"You awoke it. You started my heart again. I'm human now," he said softly.

"How is that even possible?" Hiccup shook his head in disbelief.

"I don't know. But thank you. If not for you, I would still be in that frozen state," Jack said.

"Frozen?" Hiccup's green eyes bore into Jack's soul.

"Yes, frozen." Jack took Hiccup's hand from his chest and began lightly tracing over the ridges and callouses with his thumb; an almost unconscious act. "I was the messenger of death, captivated by the man on the moon. I was going insane, I swear, but I couldn't do anything about it. But then you came. I was supposed to kill you, but you showed me what life is. You showed me that killing isn't right. So I stopped."

"You just _stopped_?"

"Yes?" Jack scratched the back of his head with a lopsided grin. "I mean…I guess?" He gave an airy laugh. "I turned human, that was the price, but I don't really mind."

"Why?" Blurted out Hiccup, letting his mouth run before his mind caught up. Jack was relieved to see that spark of curiosity in Hiccup; the same one that appeared two years ago when Hiccup discovered the absence of a heart in the angel of death.

"Why? Because I had nothing to live for." Jack answered seriously. "I had nothing I wanted to protect; nothing I wanted to do. I didn't know why I existed, and I had nothing to live for. In essence, I was dead."

"But you're alive now. Why did you come here? What are you living for now?" Hiccup asked, his natural need to know everything coming through.

Jacks answer was immediate.

"You," he said. Hiccup's eyes widened in surprise. "I've been trying to find you for a while now, but you move fast. Every town I visited already had you gone from it for a day, at least. People always pointed me to you when I said you were my brother, but it doesn't matter now. I finally found you."

Hiccup's brain was working overtime as he processed all this information that had just been loaded onto him. Realizing that the gold of Jack's eyes was way too close for comfort (not that he minded, truthfully), he stepped away from him, breaking the bond they shared and stared at his feet.

"So what are you going to do now that you found me?"

Jack had apparently rehearsed his answer, because it came out confidently.

"Start over again." At those words, he reached out and offered a hand to Hiccup.

"Hello, my name is Jackson Overland and I need a place to stay for the night." He took a deep breath before speaking again. "I'm really hoping this kid who I met two years ago and who started my heart would give me a second chance, because I've only had one of those and I really hope I don't screw this one up. I don't have anywhere else to go. And I hope he doesn't mind, because I felt like I've known him for my whole life."

His hand remained suspended, waiting for Hiccup to either take it or not. His eyes closed, unable to take the suspense, and after a moment, when he realized that the limb wasn't taken ahold of, he felt a sinking feeling in his chest -one that he hated immediately- and withdrew the hand. His eyes itched and he could feel the tears coming forth but forced himself to swallow them back. He took time before opening his eyes, and when he did, he brought the fiery gaze right past Hiccup's shoulder and remained silent. Humiliated and tired enough already, both emotionally and physically, he wanted nothing more than to break somewhere else. Away from the green eyes that were watching at him.

He swallowed thickly and found himself unsure of what to do now that his plan failed. What should he say? What was he supposed to do?

He prepared himself to turn away from the male who saved him, once and for all, but he couldn't.

Hiccup took a step toward him and Jack took a step back, not knowing how to feel or react when warm arms suddenly enveloped him into a hug.

It was warm, the epitome of home, and Jack found himself winding his own arms around the body so close to his own in a natural reaction he didn't have to think twice about and he gave a content sigh.

This he could get used to.

"I don't want you to go," Hiccup's voice said, muffled by Jack's chest. He sounded so small, but Jack just wondered if that was maybe because he was embarrassed. "I don't want to you leave. I don't want to you say anything, I just want you to stay. Because you saved my life once, and I don't want to be alone again. I've never had anything easy, and you walking back here is almost too convenient, so I don't want this to be a dream. I don't know what to do." At this point he was babbling, but Jack made no move to stop him. "Everyone I know and love is dead, so how can I accept that this isn't a dream? You're an angel, or you were an angel, and you spared my life, which made you human. I just- I don't know." He only noticed then that Jack's arms were around him when one of his hands began lightly stroking Hiccup's reddish locks soothingly.

"I'll stay until you kick me out," Jack whispered into Hiccup's hair as he let his eyes close. "I've got no where else to go."

"You and me, we're both alone," Hiccup found himself saying after a moment. "You've never felt love, and I've felt it before and am now having withdrawal symptoms."

"I'm sorry," Jack said.

"About what?"

"All your friends died. And your family, too. I'm sorry I couldn't have stopped that. I tried to stop the war…but I couldn't stop the deaths of your loved ones." He felt like a failure in that instant. "Sorry," he whispered out against Hiccup's hair.

"It's ok," Hiccup said back, finding the words to be true. It really was ok. It was ok because Jack, who he didn't even know, was hugging him and telling him that he wanted to stay with Hiccup. It was ok because that meant that he wouldn't be alone.

It was ok.

He was ok.

They were ok.

"So," Hiccup said as he pulled away a moment later and gave a manly cough into a fist, craftily avoiding Jack's eyes. The two of them straightened themselves out, wondering were to go from there. "Would you believe me if I said that today is a holiday for the god of luck?"

Jacks eyes had a twinkle of mirth as he replied, all traces of defeat gone for good.

"And would you believe me if I said yes?"

Hiccup couldn't help but smile.

"Yes. Yes I would."

* * *

And that was drabble 1. Hope you liked it! Remember to leave a review down below if you did.

Thank you for reading this! Hopefully there are many more to come! I seriously love writing and although my writing is FAR from perfect, by posting these stories on ff I'm hoping to get better.

**theCrazyLaDiDa**


	2. Gravity

This drabble is sorely due to the fact that I watched Gravity (with Sandra Bullock) yesterday, cried through most of it, and coughed out this out in response. Jack I guess would be Dr. Stone (in this case, Dr. Frost), and he was the only survivor on the mission.

Thanks to those who reviewed so far! They make me so happy!

Gravity

"Jack, was it?"

The white head bobbed up and down. "Affirmative."

The response was odd, but the green eyed male didn't show it. "The name's Hiccup."

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Hiccup. Say; would you mind if I ask you a…personal question?"

The silverware clinked as the brunette put them down. "No, by all means, please do. Unless it has to do with my name, in which I'd only tell you I have Norwegian heritage in my blood."

"Ahh." A second pair of utensils was placed on the table, and someone swallowed. "Guess that would explain it."

Shockingly sapphire eyes watched as the male across from him smiled; eyes crinkling first. God…those eyes. They were something. Really something.

"So," Hiccup began, lightly thrumming his fingers on the wooden table. "Should we play a game?"

Thin lips turned into a slight cheshire grin. Jack knew a thing or two about games.

"A game?" He asked, interest peaking.

"Yes. I had one in mind: 20 questions." Hiccup ignored the raised eyebrow Jack shot at him. "You ask a question; I have to answer it. Same goes for me. And no exceptions."

Jack nodded in agreement. "_Affirmati_- I mean, sure." He caught himself and coughed lightly into a fist. He had to remind himself he was no longer an astronaut in space but a normal everyday guy with a boring life. _Remember that, Jack. Remember it._ "I'd love to play that game," he said politely.

"Cool. I go first." Hiccup leaned back in his chair as he thought of a question. "Ahh, got it."

Jack watched the light play off the reddish brown hair on Hiccup's head. "Shoot."

"What's your best memory from childhood?"

"That's easy," Jack said, leaning back in his chair as he thought about wording his answer. "Let's see…" He cleared his throat and ignored the pair of verdant eyes staring at him. "I was 9," he began. "I was 9 and my sister was 6. We were both outside on the beach and it was dusk. Night was falling but neither of us cared. We stayed out till late into morning, just lying down on the sand and watching the stars. They reflected in my sister's eyes; I remember that. She was beautiful then. I never forgot that night, it was…" He struggled for the right word. None seemed to come close to what he felt. "Something," he concluded, blanching at the poor wording. "That night was really something."

Silence.

Hiccup thought about his answer before asking: "Sister? What's her name?"

"Her name was Emma," Jack replied. And if Hiccup noticed the way he referred to her in past tense, he remained silent about it. Jack thanked him quietly for it.

"Ok, my turn." Jack thought for a moment, playing idly with his fork when inspiration struck.

"When was a time -it can be an event or not- you most scared in your life?"

"Oh this is gonna be fun," Hiccup sucked in a breath as he recounted in his head Dagur, the deranged kid his father forced him to play with as a kid, which turned into grade-school bullying as he grew older. Even now Dagur made a point to show up at the brunettes apartment and invite himself in for dinner, all the while mocking Hiccup in every way possible. It was an understatement to say that Hiccup hated these impromptu visits but he couldn't bring himself to kick Dagur out. Where else would Dagur spend the night in the city?

Jack leaned closer to hear Hiccup's answer. "So as a kid I lived in Washington before moving to New York. I don't look like it now, but I was a total nerd back then. I had the big glasses, the short stature, the pitchy voice; you name it." He chuckled. "There was this one kid, Dagur, who's dad was friends with my dad. This kid like, found sadistic pleasure torturing me - and I mean he enjoyed it _thoroughly._"

"…torturing you?" Jack's sweat dropped; he could feel it.

"Still does. In 9th grade he tried to drown me once," Hiccup said flatly, nodding. "Yup. Pretty sure I was never so scared ever before as I was then. Though I owe it to him now. It was because of that that I learned to swim."

Jack's eyes seem to darken at the word and he avoided Hiccup's gaze. "Sounds like a nice guy," he finally let out.

Hiccup gave a dry laugh, noticing the tensing in Jack's shoulders. He quickly decided to change gears. "And you?"

"Huh?" Jack looked up. "Me?"

"Yes, you. When have you been most scared in your life?"

"Does this count as a question?"

Hiccup's eyes twinkled as he tilted his head to the left. "You bet."

"Damn." He swore with a joking tone, looking at Hiccup from his under his lashes. He gave a small smile. "Well…have you heard of _The Eclipse_?"

Hiccup's brow furrowed as he tried to recall something to memory. Jack entertained himself during the small wait by watching the way Hiccup's eyes flashed when something seemed to strike him. In fact, a lot about this particular guy interested Jack. His eyes for one thing. They were the prettiest eyes he'd ever seen in his life, and that was saying something. After going to space and seeing the stars, the moon, and the sun from a front row seat…gems and jewelry rarely caught his eye anymore. But this guy's eyes -_Hiccup's eyes_- managed to do just that. Second were his adorable freckles. Jack hadn't missed the way Hiccup ducked his head when he sat down at Jack's table. Embarrassment had colored his face when Jack had made sure to point out that he could pick out constellations from his freckles. Third was his wit. Fourth was his bashfulness. Fifth was his quick sense of humor. Sixth was his delicious lean structure-

"Isn't that the satellite that blew up and set off a chain reaction and destroyed like, a bunch of other satellites at once?" Hiccup broke Jack out his reverie as he mentally stumbled to catch up with Hic. "It was all over the news; there was only one survivor."

Jack nodded. "Yep. Do you know who the survivor was?"

"The paper didn't say," Hiccup said slowly. "I think they mentioned he wanted privacy so they didn't release his name." He gave Jack an odd look. "Why?"

"Can't say that spinning in space is something most people can atone to having done before, but I take it as a pretty darn scary experience," Jack replied, nodding as he leaned back in his chair. "Certainly put some things into perspective for me, though."

Hiccup looked at him with a confused expression. "What are you trying to say..?"

"Jack Frost didn't want the public to know his name for a reason, Hiccup," Jack teased lightly.

Jack watched it hit Hiccup like an oncoming train.

"YOU WERE HIM?!" He yelled, standing up abruptly and scaring the chair ever so slightly. Jack tried not to wince when it crashed to the ground. He failed. Hiccup stood stoic still and tried to collect himself. People were staring at Hiccup, and Hiccup couldn't take his eyes off Jack.

"I'm sorry, that was…probably uncalled for," he muttered quickly, "but you're actually _him_?"

"Quiet- try not to make a racket!" Jack hissed and Hiccup had the decency to blush. His freckles stood out prettily.

"Sorry, I really am sorry. Really, I am,but, I mean, it's just-"

"Not that big of a deal," Jack cut in smoothly, reaching for his coat. Hiccup's eyes widened as his eyes followed the taller males actions. Crap. _Good job, Hiccup. You managed to scare him off. _"Happened three years ago. I was 22. And stupid. And lucky." Jack hurried to help Hiccup with the chair, letting his hand rest on the brunette's for a second longer than appropriate of two men who just met each other. Even if they did feel an immediate spark.

"But that's amazing," Hiccup countered back.

Jack felt his shoulder raise up in a shrug. "It's not that amazing. It was more of luck." He shrugged on his coat and wiggled his arms around to let it settle.

"Coming?" He rocked on the balls of his feet. "Lets get out of here. I can't talk in this stuffy atmosphere." Translation: I don't want anyone else to hear.

Hiccup, it seemed, couldn't agree any more and eagerly pulled on his coat before standing shoulder-to-shoulder to the white haired male.

"Ready when you are," he gestured to the door.

Jack started walking, Hiccup following close on his feet, before stopping abruptly.

"What-" Hiccup almost got the word out before Jack seemed to loom above him. Wow, had he always been this short? He could've sworn 5'4 wasn't that short for a guy.

Jack had turned around swiftly and now looked at the young man who's eyes were greener than the forest near his home-town; green like the Earth had been 100 kilometer above it, and came to a decision.

Jack nodded to himself. "Yeah. Definitely Sagittarius. I thought it was Piscus before, but no way. Which is funny, because Sagittarius is my astrological sign."

"I'm gonna take a shot in the dark and guess you're talking about my freckles." Hiccup said.

Jack reached out to take ahold of Hiccup's hand, loving the small jump the shorter male made at the contact. "Cold hands, sorry," he made up an excuse. It was a lie. He felt a certain warmness next to Hiccup. "But yes. I memorized the constellations and their positions relative to the sun and each other. Kinda saved my life," he recounted.

"So tell me about the Eclipse. Only what you want, though. I don't want it to dampen the evening." Hiccup let his fingers curl slightly around the other male's hand.

"Well, do you want to hear the good parts or the bad parts?" Jack asked playfully.

Hiccup smiled as he watched the sky, looking at the stars that started to peak through the dark haze of what was the night sky.

"I'd rather just hear whatever you want to say."

"Ok." Jack looked upwards and started his story. "So it was three years ago; I had just been approved to install a new program for NASA…"

Needless to say, they spent the rest of the evening (which eventually turned to night) talking. And the game Hiccup suggested had been long, long forgotten.

* * *

Thanks for reading, and make sure to review! If you guys have any requests, I'd love to take them!

-thecrazyLaDiDa


	3. Without Him

Without Him

Jack!" _Drip_. "Jack, JACK!" The voice yelled over and over again, way past the stage of caring who else heard him. Past the stage of caring at all, actually. _Let this be the end of him, _Hiccup thought. He could die for all he cared, so long that he would get one more glimpse of his white haired friend.

_Friend? _He couldn't help but think, _or lover_? They never had been clear on that.

If dying was what he to do to see Jack one more time, he'd do it. The bottle slipped from his fingers like sand and fell to the ground in a crash. Even he jumped. The shattering noise seemed defeaning in the silence of the alleyway.

"Jack, where are you?" He asked, voice cracking at the end, sounding broken. A tear slipped down his cheeks, barely sounding when it hit the puddle of beer at his feet. Images of his white haired friend raced through his mind. He couldn't stop it even if he tried, and pray tell he had counted how many times he had. Every man has a breaking point; this was his

The cold stone of the wall welcomed him; embraced him when he leaned back and closed his eyes, shoulder heaving.

* * *

The wind was a strange thing. Not even a thing, an entity. Like the moon, or like the golden sand of time. Or like a heart. Beating and beating and beating.

Time. It never stood still; never slowing down for no one. _Father Time_, the powerful and old spirit who watched over time and it's mechanics was an old friend of Jack's_._ How many times had Jack tried to speak to him? Tried to coax an answer out of the spirit of time. Frankly, more than he could count on his fingers.

Tonight was no different.

"Please, just _please_, Father Time. You never answer, but listen to what I have to say." He paused to listen for a sound that someone was listening. But as usual, he was running his mouth. He clenched some dirt in his fist and ground his fingers together. "Make my time flow again. I want to be human, I want to be mortal," he said to the air. The only thing on his mind as the words were spoken was a certain brown haired, green eyed dork that was every waking thought of every second of his godforsaken mind.

The second the words left his lips, the wind began whipping around him like the angry mass it was. Blue eyes widened despite the whiplash he received against his sensitive skin. He listened hard.

And heard something.

Before Father Time could make his questionable presence known, the teen who was old beyond imagination took off with the wind; a blue streak against the black sky.

* * *

Silent footsteps resonated through stone. Green eyes flicked upwards, straining to see who now stood not ten feet away. The drunken haze he'd drunkedn himself into sure didn't help. It was a laugh that tore through his throat when he squinted.

Could it really be? Jack _fucking_ Frost had decided to join the party?

He laughed dryly and took another sip from the bottle in his hand. The white haired boy looked at him with pity filled eyes before speaking.

"You're drunk again."

Hiccup gave a small hiccup. It jolted his entire frame. "You came."

Jacks eyes roved over his body, taking in the weary slump and untamed state Hiccup was in. He didn't even try to say anything to answer the teen.

Hiccup stared at him, his unstable mind suddenly growing angry. This was all Jack was going to do? After months of leaving Hiccup on his own, all he was going to do was stand there and _stare_? Like he was some piece in a museum to be _gawked_ at?

He tried to stand - _bad idea_, because his two legs, one wrought from flesh and blood and the other from metal, could barely move from the ground. He pitched forward, readily expecting the cold ground to meet his face like the so many times it had happened in the past.

A faint breeze lifted him from a last second impact, and he didn't have to look up to know his best friend was crouching in front of him. Hell, he could _smell_ the winter fairy; it was distinct smell of pine trees and peppermint. Memories tickled the back of his mind.

_He smelled like Jack._

"You always come when I call you." He couldn't stop the words tumbling out his mouth. He sounded needy. And he hated it.

Blue eyes looked at him with a restless concern in them. "C'mon, we need to get you home," Jack said, taking Hiccup by the forearm and heaving him upwards. He tried not to notice the absence of muscle that had used to be there last time they touched. _Months ago_. Now Hiccup's arm was nothing but skin and bones, deteriorated after time spent wallowing in misery.

Jack hated himself for turning Hiccup into a mental case. He _hated_ himself. If it weren't for their meeting years ago, this would have never happened.

With one hand gripping his staff, he curled the other around the brunettes waist, shifting slightly so that they could start making way down the alleyway and to Hiccup's home. Hiccup leaned into Jack's chest, letting himself be taken into Jack's embrace before tearing himself away with a deep breath.

With arms still clad in the riding armor he donned earlier that day, he caged the white haired boy in, forcing him across the alleyway and back into a wall. Hiccup instantly leaned against his right arm, hating the way the world seemed to tip and spin from under his feet. Even the smallest of movement tipped his brain and turned his legs to putty. Jack's back touched the stone; those blue eyes ever so intent as he watched unleashed anger spring tears to his best friends green ones.

The lamp blew out, bathing them in darkness, but not dark enough that Hiccup couldn't see those expressive blue eyes looking sorrowfully into his own.

"Why?" He whispered. He wanted to scream, to yell, but he could barely bring his voice to a faint whisper. How did that happen? _How_? Why did Jack have such an affect on him?

It had always been like this. Always him who had to hide the blushes and stutters his friend had inflicted on him, probably without even knowing about Hiccup's growing feelings. But that hat had all changed when Jack had kissed him against the wall of his own house months ago. It felt like years.

Bringing up his pale arm up to gently touch the one caging him in, Jack continued to stare boldly into the green eyes. "You're gonna catch a cold here. Lets get you back home." He tried to infuse his voice with the softest, most caring tone his vocal cords could produce. The boy in front of him was balancing on the tip of the knife; one wrong word and he would fall.

But if anything, Hiccup looked even more livid, all the fight in his eyes almost scaring Jack. He tightened his grip on the brunette's arm unconsciously.

"Why do you always _leave_ me?!" Hiccup spat, face not inches from Jack's.

Silence fell over the duo like a shadow, cloaking everything in a tense, almost hateful, atmosphere. Blue eyes locked coldly onto the green ones. Hiccup swore he had never seen Jack so…was that anger in his features? Or sadness?

"We both know that immortals and mortals can't be together," Jack responded back calmly, feeling anything but the calm he put on like a cloak. A well practiced facade.

Clutching Jack's arms in a tight hold, Hiccup screamed at him, the tears in his eyes all but leaking as he scrunched up his face. Those next words almost broke Jack's heart.

"I fell in love with you! Can't you make an exception or something?!"

It was a scream, a cry for help. It was unlike Hiccup. It was so wrong, so out of character, that Jack suddenly realized with a jolt how much pain Hiccup must be in.

All that pain was caused by him.

How could Jack stop it? How could Jack turn Hiccup back into the sarcastic little twerp he had loved, and not this broken, dead eyed man he had morphed into?

There was only one answer: Hiccup had to forget about him.

Jack had a conscious, he always did. But whenever he listened to it, nothing good came out of it. And this time, it was telling him to stay. But he couldn't; he had to go. Staying only meant prolonging the fissure of a wound that would eventually heal. Him being there only hurt Hiccup more.

And with that in mind, he lifted his other hand and plucked Hiccup's fingers off his arm with cold digits. The other's eyes widened at the actions the male in front of him was initiating.

Was Jack trying to leave?

Now down to the last finger, Jack plucked it off him, not once meeting Hiccup's gaze. If he did, he was sure he wouldn't have the willpower to leave. Neither spoke a word as he moved past the younger boy and toward his staff, which had fallen to the ground in the midst of things.

Hiccup was openly crying now, tears cascading down his cheeks without even an attempt to quell them.

Bullshit. _Bullshit_. Did Jack love him, or not? Were all those words spoken at the dead of night all _lies_? Were the "I love you's" _lies_? Because if they were…if they were, hiccup was a broken man.

Jack was leaving. He was going to leave him.

No. Just, fucking _no_.

Grabbing the blue sweatshirt that had become worn out with time, Hiccup summoned all the energy he had left -which wasn't much- and pulled Jack toward him. Those blue eyes didn't even widen when Hiccup's lips clashed against his in a sudden bout of passion and angst.

The kiss tasted salty. Like the tears Hiccup cried.

Lips molded together in a heated embrace that spoke of nothing but longing, Hiccup coaxed the spirits mouth open and slid his tongue in, relishing the feel of Jack. But the other's mouth remained stoic, unmoving. Hiccup may as well been kissing stone. And when Hiccup realized that Jack wasn't kissing him back, he gripped him closer. Only closeness could stop the aching in his chest, right?

In a second, his heart felt like it had been mauled over.

Letting Jack go, he stumbled backwards and sank to the ground. His prosthetic didn't have such a graceful landing and splayed outward at an unnatural angle. He tried to hold in the feeling of his chest tearing apart, but he couldn't help the moan that ripped out his throat. The sadness he felt only intensified when he felt a warm hand brushing his head lightly.

_A goodbye..?_

The fingers curled into his brown hair, so untamed and wild, before petting softly.

That was it. Jack must be leaving.

_No no no no no no_. All those years of lusting after the white haired teen, and this is what it came to? A good bye? Hiccup clutched himself tighter, embarrassed by the tears he couldn't hold in, not this time. His body was racked with sobs.

But then when he least expected it, he felt cold warmth against his back; his breath instantly hitching in his throat. Jack unexpectedly sat behind him, snaking pale arms around Hiccup's waist, pulling the small sobbing body into the crevice of his own. They fit perfectly, like two pieces of a puzzle. Just like they always had, even if they hadn't known it. Tucking Hiccup into him even closer, Jack placed his head over Hiccup's, rocking them slowly until Hiccup's tears came to a stop.

Both were basked in the moonlight, but both breathed in the air like it was something they didn't have enough of.

_The love between us shouldn't exist_, Jack thought.

_But I fall apart when I am not with him_, Hiccup finished.

* * *

I posted this before as a oneshot but deleted it. So it's back in this multi-chaptered Drabble thingamajig.

Thank you for reading. Review!

-thecrazyLaDiDa


	4. Ten Years

Ten Years. 

It was Friday. It was warm, too hot, too sweaty in the classroom; the assignment on the board was blatantly ignored by the students. Some were on their phones- if they had them. Others were chucking things in the garbage can while others sat still and glared at the ground. All these kids were in the, quote on quote, special class. The kids the teachers didn't want in their classrooms; the kids that the parents didn't want in the classrooms with their precious children- all put in here as a last resort. These were the type of kids hung out in alleyways and along creeks after school. Usually in pairs, or alone.

The "_troubled kids."_ And not because they were troubled, but because no one cared to find another name for them.

The teacher suddenly clapped his hands and got the class's attention. Dozens of eyes followed him as he crossed the classroom to the back, where students glanced at him warily.

He passed through rows of people, stopping at each persons desk, looking them dead in the eye, and proclaimed things such as, "Cleaning lady," or "Cashier," or "Garbage Man," leaving each student to feel like shit. No one felt any less or more worse than their neighbor. They were all in the same ball game, as one might say, and had no way of proving their teacher wrong. Inside, the sure as hell wanted to. Some even did, going as far as opening their mouths and raising their eyes in defiance, before shutting them immediately. The teacher didn't care. He was already at the next person, the next future, the next faceless kid.

And then he was at Hiccup's desk. And he was speaking. His eyes didn't even look at the scraggily brunette in a shirt that was way too big for him when the words "Checkout bagger" left his lips. Those stupid lips. But he was gone, at the next kid, speaking more horrific words that left the person they were aimed at to look slightly surprised, slightly hurt, and worst of all- slightly accepting.

_ The fuck? _Hiccup looked around for someone to defy him. To raise their voice and say,_"You're wrong!" _But maybe he had too much faith in the class. Everyone was silent.

Because maybe Hiccup wasn't the best student, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to do anything with his life. Yes, he was scrawny. Yes, his family at home was in shambles. Yes, he was alone most of the time. Yes, people stayed out his way. But, no. No. No. No.

It didn't say shit about him. It didn't mean that what he was saying was true. This man, this vile creature they called a teacher, didn't know anything about the people he was teaching; didn't know anything about people in general. What was he trying to do? Make them hate their lives more than they did already? Kill any motivation they might've had? Crush their egos under the sole of his shoe? What authority did he have to say that?

It didn't sit well with Hiccup. It didn't sit with him at all.

He gritted his teeth and set his jaw. This had to stop. He was ready to stand up and voice him opinion- was almost at it when something stopped him.

Something, being the snarky being called Jack Frost.

"Sorry, sir. I already know what I'll be when I'm older," he said before the teacher could.

The teacher started and looked downwards at the head of white hair. He leered and turned to face the infamous Jack Frost.

"So you know what you're going to be, say, ten years from now?"

"Yep." He popped the "p" and hooked his thumbs through his jeans. "I'll be cruising down the highway in my BMW." Some of the guys around him started cheering, but Hiccup was not one of them. He could only stare at this kid in wonder. Either Jack Frost was very ambitious, of very very stupid.

The teachers face fell. He sighed. "And how, Mr. Frost, are you going to afford that?"

Jack grinned impishly. "Oh, you know. A little bit of this, a little bit of that."

"Drugs?" The teacher asked, disgusted.

"Oh, no, sir." Jack widened his eyes to the point where Hiccup could see the whites quite clearly. "I'm going to be a singer. I'll have my own band, and I'll be the main attraction. People will know my name, man. They'll know Jack Frost."

The class laughed. Someone clapped Jack on the back, giving him praise. Some just kept on staring at the white haired boy. Or maybe it was just Hiccup.

"A singer?" The teacher sounded bewildered. He looked at Jack like he was a child. "Surely you must know that not all singers can make a living. Most don't even become famous. Talent means nothing in this world. You have to try hard." At this he turns and begins addressing the entire class as one. "You all have to wake up, start realizing that you're all going to graduate next year. And while you're here now, you won't go anywhere in life. A high school diploma, if you're lucky, but that's it."

Hiccup chose then to raise his hand and started talking, not even waiting to be called on. "Sir, why can't Jack become a singer?" He asked, successfully putting the attention on him.

All the eyes flicked to him. But he only looked at one pair of them. Clear blue against green. He continued. "If he says he wants to become a singer, why put him down? He may or nay not have talent. We don't know. I don't know, but hell, if he wants to do something, that's better than the rest of us." He took a deep breath. "In fact, I want to be an engineer. I want to design and build prosthetics. I already work at my uncle's smisthshop. You have no right telling me otherwise. You don't know anything about me."

Jack looked at him as if he'd never seen Hiccup before, and that may as well have been true. They knew each others names, but never once spoke a word to each other. His face melted from surprised to thankful, and he smiled at Hiccup. Not the cocky smile he wore on default, but a true, honest, smile that warmed Hiccup's chest. He smiled back, revealing a crooked teeth. Jack's smile only grew wider in turn.

The teacher then began to realize other kids were talking back. It started off small, and it grew to something enormous. Kids yelled that they wanted to be doctors, lawyers, nurses. One quiet girl who never spoke much proclaimed she was going to be an artist. People whistled at that, and some other girl started belting out the lyrics to "Impossible" in a clear, strong, voice, earning her a thunderous bout of clapping after she'd finished, glowing with pride.

Throughout it all, the teacher looked like a fish thrown out of water. His cheeks hollowed out, eyes sharpened in anger, and mouth opened and closed to try and say something. But it was a lost cause. He'd lost the respect of the class the moment Hiccup had raised his hand and started talking. No one cared what he had to say. The spell he had over the class was broken.

Jack motioned with his hands that they should steal out of the classroom, and it wasn't so hard when everyone was standing up and eagerly talking to be heard above the others. They managed to sneak through the door and into the hallway. Hiccup looked at Jack, clearly wondering where to go from there, but Jack already had an answer.

"The creek behind school. I love hanging out there." He suddenly stopped walking and held up his hands for Hiccup to wait. His eyes were alight as he spoke, sizzling with electricity Hiccup didn't normally see in day to day people. "Wait! Before I forget, I just have to say- that was amazing! You! You. Were. Amazing. What you said, that really fired everyone up. Oh man, I'm fired up!" He broke out into a dance right then and there and gave a small whoop.

Hiccup smiled. "Nah. It wasn't me. You spoke up before he could attack you. That was amazing."

Jack simply shook his head. Hiccup realized that nothing was going to sway his opinion, so he shrugged. Jack could believe whatever the hell he wanted to.

They fell into step besides each other.

"But really, thanks, man. For standing up for me. No one else was going to." Jack's gaze on him was piercing.

Hiccup's mouth spoke before his brain did. "What about your friends?"

Jack laughed while Hiccup visibly cringed. He noticed that when Jack laughed, his whole body laughed with him. His head threw back, his hands clutched loosely at his sides, his back arched slightly, and it was a second before he could speak again. His breathes came out in small shudders.

"Friends? Oh, Hiccup," he chuckled. "What do kids like us know about friends? It's each for his own here. I don't have any friends."

"Yes, you do," Hiccup pointed out. "You have friends. Don't lie to me."

"Okay. And how many of those friends helped me out back there?" Jack asked. His question was met with silence. "Thought so," he clucked. "You're been more of a friend in the past five minutes that any of those kids have been in two years."

Hiccup didn't mean to preen, and he certainly didn't on the outside, but inside, he felt good. Kind of sirupy. Like sugar. Even if he did hate sugar, it felt good, he decided. But nothing fooled Jack. Those crystal blue orbs lightened as he pinched Hiccup's arm. "Dude, I just said something super nice to you and you look like you couldn't care less."

Hiccup started stuttering, something he didn't do too often, but stopped when it was clear Jack was only teasing him.

"I kid, kid. Hey, so wanna go to my place? We could eat some stuff. Do shit. I have GTA. I could totally kick your ass at that," Jack said calmly. Far more calmly than Hiccup could ever be if he was inviting someone over to his house, which would never happen. He would sound more like a broken record player._ "Hey, so, uh, you wanna, like, uh, maybe do something? Not something, I mean, go to, uh, like…" _It would be a disaster.

"So whaddya say, Hic?"

That broke him out his thoughts.

"I don't know, Jack. I don't really know you."

He would later say that he set himself up for what was to come and bite him in the ass.

Jack opened the doors. "And I don't know you. But every friendship has to start somewhere. Might as well start ours with GTA." He paused for a second. "Which, by the way, I'm totally going to kick your ass at."

Hiccup shook his head. "Touchè. Lets see if you can back up your claims, tough guy."

Jack smiled and ignored the jab. The walk to his house was short and nice. There was no silence, as one might think there would be between two people who knew nothing about each other, besides their plans for the future. Jack talked animatedly about something Hiccup couldn't quite remember at the moment. He listened while Jack talked, giving his two cents occasionally.

So, in all, maybe it wasn't that odd that ten years later, with a small gold band on his finger, he watched as Jack said his final goodbye to his fans, promising to never stop singing, but had to dissolve the band. People cried out from the crowd at gathered around radio station. Millions of listeners were listening, eagerly wondering if the rumors were true, or just, in fact, rumors.

_Well_, Hiccup thought. _They were about to find out. _

"So, Jack Frost," the peppy radio host said, heavily mascaraed eyes trained on the white haired male in front of her. "The rumors are true. After singing in self made band, _Hijacked in The Moment_ for the past 7 years, and releasing over ten hit singles, you've decided to disband you band." She smiled as Jack gave a self conscious chuckle. "I can't say _I'm_ happy about this. Millions of people are so sad right now! You have so many fans. If I may ask, what lead you to this decision?"

The silence was almost tangible as Jack found the words. His adam apple bobbed as he swallowed, and he licked his lips. Through the glass, Hiccup could tell his fiancé was nervous. No, scratch that. More than nervous. This was a big step for him, and even though he had been the one to suggest it, not Hiccup, it took a lot of bravery.

But then those blue eyes, the eyes Hiccup learned to rely on, looked at him. A smile grew on the white haired male's face, and it was suddenly as if there was no one else around them. No reporters, no annoying radio hosts; no one. Just him and Jack, in the same room, looking at each other.

"This decision wasn't sudden. This decision grew over time," Jack said. "I always have and will love singing, but I think it's time for me to settle down. I want to be with the one I love. All the time; not just when I can be. I want to start a family. I want to be home." He took a deep breath and continued looking Hiccup in the eye, much like he had ten years ago in a musty old classroom. "Hiccup, I love you. I don't know where I'd be without you, and you deserve to have this good for nothing home with you all the time, day after day, month after month, year after year. Not just when he can be, but always."

Hiccup's chest swelled with something he only felt around Jack. Through the glass they couldn't hear each other. Hiccup could only hear Jack because he was on air, live, but Jack wouldn't hear him if he spoke. So instead, he mouthed the words he felt. And even though they'd said them to each other millions of times before, he knew they never meant it any less than the last time they'd said it.

_ Love you._

Jack kissed two of his fingers and held them out to Hiccup.

_ Love you more. _

* * *

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-thecrazyLaDiDa


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